


To Take Another Journey

by yugto



Category: Suikoden Tierkreis
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yugto/pseuds/yugto
Summary: At thirteen, Liu leaves the Scribes behind, never to return.Well, at least that's what he thought.





	To Take Another Journey

**Author's Note:**

> _Into the woods, it's always when_   
>  _You think at last you're through, and then_   
>  _Into the woods you go again_   
>  _To take another journey._
> 
> \-- The Baker, "Act 2 Prologue: So Happy", _Into The Woods_
> 
>  
> 
> This fic has been on the back burner throughout my entire college life. I just graduated a couple of months ago, so I figured now was as good a time as any to finally finish it. Hope you enjoy!

It’s not that Liu-Shen _tries_ to get into arguments with Grandmother Lao-Kwan, honestly—it’s just that every time he asks her about leaving the woods, she just steamrolls over anything he has to say. To say that the Woodland Village is completely isolated would be no exaggeration; the last person to leave the village left before Liu-Shen was even born, and he’s never seen someone new enter the village.

“I have told you this before; we must not repeat our previous mistakes, Liu-Shen,” Lao-Kwan intones, the same way she does every time he asks.

“But what _were_ those mistakes?” Liu-Shen questions, the same way he does every time Lao-Kwan gives him this noncommittal answer. “How can we avoid making those mistakes if no one will even tell us what they were?” Lao-Kwan just shakes her head, and dismisses him with a wave of her hand.

* * *

He continues to turn the question over in his mind as he lies awake in bed that night. There’s no reason for them to stay trapped here. They learn about the outside world in school. History is his favorite class, and he can talk more about geographies and shifting borders and strategies than any of the other kids in his grade. Even at ten, he and his classmates know a great deal about the outside world. If they know so much about the outside world, why don’t they ever get to see it?

He asks Len-Lien about it the next day, when they’re sitting together at lunch. She puts down her _siu mai_ and looks at him, puzzled, asking, “Why, Liu-Shen, do you want to leave the woods?”

“Think about it, Len-Lien,” he says, mouth half full, gesticulating with the half-eaten sesame ball in his hand. She still looks puzzled; for the sake of clarity, he swallows his mouthful of food and continues. “There’s a whole world out there, and none of us have _ever_ seen it because we’re hiding away here in the forest! Don’t you want to see what’s out there? Aren’t you scared we’ll never know, because we’re just stuck here?”

“Not really,” Len-Lien says carefully. _It’s different for her_ , Liu-Shen thinks, without any real bitterness. Len-Lien is a paragon of excellence among his age group. When she’s not around, his classmates chatter about how their parents say that Len-Lien will be the next assistant to the Elder Scribe. Mei-Ling, the current assistant, is growing older and older, and it’s common knowledge that Lao-Kwan will be in need of a new assistant soon. Lao-Kwan needs someone young who can keep working with her for the rest of her natural life, and with the new Elder after that as the village transitions between leaders. Although she’s only ten, Len-Lien fits all the villagers’ criteria perfectly. Liu-Shen is just a kid who’s there, Len-Lien’s best friend, without much else to distinguish him from the crowd.

Jolting Liu-Shen out of his thoughts, Len-Lien muses, “Besides, if you ran away, I’d miss you.” He has to duck his head to keep her from seeing how his face turns a bright shade of red.

* * *

His discussion with Len-Lien ends there, but the idea of seeing the world continues to nag at the back of his mind until the day after his eleventh birthday, when he has yet another argument with his grandmother. When she declares the discussion over with a sharp “We are _done_ here, Liu-Shen,” he doesn’t stomp away like he did when he was ten; instead, he holds his head high, whirls on his heel, and marches down the hallway to his room, plans rapidly spinning and formulating in his brain.

His brilliant plan boils down to this: he’s going to run away. Far, far away from the woods and the Scribes, so he can finally see the world with his own eyes instead of reading about it in a dusty old book.

He doesn’t know much about the outside world outside of its history, but he does know that potch is a common currency across the continent, and if he wants to get anywhere, he’s going to need all the money he can get. So over the ensuing year, he saves up his money little by little, taking odd jobs and hoarding his allowance, editing bits and pieces of his routine here and there to save money. He forgoes the ice cream runs he used to go on in favor of the rock-solid granola bars his grandmother keeps in the pantry, borrows books from the library instead of buying them from the tiny bookshop down the street from his middle school, and does yard work for the neighbors—even cranky old Hao-Shi, who squints distrustfully out his front window as Liu-Shen mows the lawn and weeds the garden. When he’s not doing his schoolwork or his odd jobs, he’s in Lao-Kwan’s study, poring over her enormous tomes of maps of the outside world. The histories of Naineneis, Astrasia, Cragbark, Ratselhaft, and Cynas have long been engraved in his memory, but now, he’s able to locate them on a map. He even tries to use the ancient desktop computer in the library to look up maps and bus and train schedules. (It turns out that the computer is best suited for simple tasks, like typing up essays, and not for complicated tasks, like trying to load Google Maps.)

During that year, Len-Lien hits a growth spurt, ending up three inches taller than him by the time it’s over. She doesn’t lord it over him or anything, but he feels more than a little bit awkward when he walks next to her; when she receives her tattoos six months later, he feels even more out of place by her side. He’s a short, awkward nerd (even by Scribe standards) who’s one of the youngest in his class, and hasn’t even gotten his tattoos yet; she’s tall, beautiful, and most definitely one of the most talented students in their year.

During that year, Liu-Shen also figures out that he might not be exactly one hundred percent straight. When the boys in his class talk about their crushes on pretty girls, he never really has anything to contribute. Sure, he thinks Len-Lien is beautiful, but _every_ boy in the class thinks so—that’s not really anything to report back on. But when the older boys get their tattoos, and they’re dressed in the traditional Scribe outfits that leave a lot of skin exposed in order to show off the newly-inked lines that crisscross their skin—well, that’s another story.

It’s not that he’s scared of what people will say. The elders always say that it’s okay to like boys or girls or people who don’t identify as either. They even say it’s okay if you don’t like anyone at all. But Liu is already an odd one out among his peers as it is, and doesn’t want to draw more attention to himself than necessary. To be fair, almost all of them are prepubescent hormonal messes that would crush on anything with a pulse. But considering how the other boys tease each other about crushes, Liu decides quickly that he’d rather avoid that kind of attention. He keeps quiet. And if he stares at the older boys a little more than necessary when they’re decked out in the ceremonial outfits, well, he can chalk that up to curiosity about the traditional tattoos, right?

* * *

So Liu goes on, avoiding attention like the plague and lurking on the outskirts of every social gathering, until he finally saves up enough to leave. It’s the night before his thirteenth birthday, and he’s sneaking down the village’s main street with three hundred and fifty potch in his wallet, enough food to last him a few days in his bag, and a polished green stone in his pocket. The woods aren’t all that big; it would take maybe a day’s worth of walking to leave the woods.

He reaches the end of the main street and pauses. Len-Lien’s house is right around the corner. Her words from before echo in his mind: _Besides, if you run away, I’d miss you_.

Impulsively, he turns left and walks a short distance down the street to Len-Lien’s house. His sneakers pad out a quiet rhythm against the sidewalk as he plans his next move. There’s a tree that leads right up to her window, one that they’ve used time and again to sneak in and out without her parents noticing. He stows his backpack carefully at the base of the tree, then climbs up to a high branch and softly knocks on the window.

“Len-Lien.” There’s no response; he knocks on her window one more time and hisses, “Hey, open up!”

“Liu-Shen?” Len-Lien opens up her window and blinks at him owlishly for a moment. She’s already in her pajamas, and her hair is down, falling in light brown waves across her shoulders. “What are you doing here? It’s nearly midnight. You should be sleeping! You’re supposed to receive your tattoos tomorrow. I don’t want you falling asleep in the middle of the ceremony!” The moonlight glints off the pale green lines that cross her forehead.

“I’m not getting my tattoos, Len-Lien,” he says, with childish confidence. “ _I’m_ not staying here forever. I want to see the world!”

Len-Lien’s eyes widen, and she asks, “Where are you going to go?”

“Anywhere but here,” Liu-Shen says firmly. “You should come with me!”

“I—I can’t, Liu-Shen. Elder Lao-Kwan just talked to me today. Mei-Ling passed away last night, and—well, she wants me to become her new aide.”

Liu-Shen’s face must have fallen, because Len-Lien’s eyes widen, and she looks incredibly sad for a minute. Liu hates to see that kind of look on his best friend’s face, so he laughs weakly and says, “Good luck with Grandmother. She’s a real piece of work, you know? Still, I guess if anyone could handle her, it’d be you.”

Len-Lien stays silent for a minute, then reaches through the window and hugs him fiercely. “Stay safe out there,” she says into his shoulder. “I won’t make you promise to come back here. I know that’s the last thing you want, but…” She draws back, grips his shoulders, and looks him straight in the eye. “Just promise me you’ll be okay?”

“I promise,” Liu-Shen says solemnly, and crosses his heart for good measure. Len-Lien smiles, and gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Then get going,” she whispers. “If you’re going to make it far away from the village before the sunrise, you need to go now. Good luck!”

Liu hopes that it’s dark enough that she can’t see him blushing. He stutters out a grateful, “Thanks for everything, Len-Lien,” and shimmies back down the tree. A movement in the window catches his eye, and he looks up to see his best friend pressed against the window, watching him leave. He waves at her one last time, turns his back with a sense of finality, and strides away toward the village gates.

* * *

The padding of his sneakers against the paved road fades into the crunch and snap of leaves and branches under his feet as he turns onto the dirt path leading out to the village gates. His heart pounds, his palms are sweaty, and all he can think is _This is it. This is really it. I’m finally leaving._

“Liu-Shen?” someone asks.

Liu-Shen yelps and spins around. Someone stands some fifteen feet away, shadowed by the trees at the edge of the village. The mystery person takes two steps forward into the sputtering lanternlight from the village gates.

If Liu-Shen knew any swear words at all, this would be the point in time where they would come streaming in a long, low stream from his mouth. However, the Scribes watch their words as carefully as they do their younglings; the worst words Liu knows are _darn_ and _gosh_ and _heck_. Really, there’s only one word that quite encompasses the sinking feeling Liu-Shen feels in his stomach.

“ _Heck_ ,” he says with feeling, because the person standing before him is Luo-Tao. Luo-Tao is the darling of all the Elders, and the old gossips say he’s next in line to become the Elder Scribe. He is, quite possibly, the worst possible person to encounter at this point (except for—gods forbid— _Grandmother Lao-Kwan_.)

“Liu-Shen,” Luo-Tao says disapprovingly. It’s the same tone that the elders use whenever Liu-Shen asks too many questions during class. It’s an odd tone, coming from someone who’s so much younger than the elders, but Liu-Shen is too busy freaking out to find it very funny. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m g-going to leave the woods,” Liu-Shen stutters, desperately trying to summon the bravado that powered him through his conversation with Len-Lien. “I—I want to know what’s out there. Why do we learn so much about the outside world when we aren’t even allowed to see it? What kinds of mistakes did we make the last time we went outside? I want—no. I _need_ to know.”

Luo-Tao doesn’t say much. He doesn’t say anything, really. He just stands there, quiet, considering. The silence between them stretches into something heavy and uncomfortable, until Liu-Shen breaks it with a hesitant “A-are you going to make me stay?” The words are directed more at his feet than at Luo-Tao. He looks up just in time to see Luo-Tao’s eyes widen in brief surprise.

“The pursuit of knowledge is one of the greatest missions of the Scribes,” Luo-Tao says finally. “Although you have chosen to carry this mission out in a different manner… I cannot stand in your way.” Liu-Shen looks up, startled. The corner of Luo-Tao’s mouth quirks up in a smile. “May every step take you higher, Liu-Shen.”

“Th-thank you,” Liu-Shen stutters out. Luo-Tao raises a hand in farewell and turns to walk back into the village. Liu-Shen watches him fade back into the darkness of the village streets, takes one last look at everything he’s ever known, then turns his back on all of it and enters the Noslaw Woods.

* * *

A few weeks and many, many miles later, Liu collapses on the Citro Plains from some mixture of dehydration, exhaustion, and perhaps heatstroke. He wakes up in a small house that smells like fruit, with a boy with silver hair and gray eyes hovering over him. The boy asks, “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Liu—” he begins, then pauses. “Just Liu.”

“Just Liu, huh?” His name sounds strange on this boy’s tongue, less _Liu_ and more _Lew_ , but Liu-Shen will take what he can get. “Well, hi, Just Liu. I’m Sieg! It’s nice to meet ya!”

Two other people filter in—a boy with blond hair just beginning to brush his shoulders, tied back in a messy stub of a ponytail, and a girl with two long, neat silver braids trailing down her back.

The girl whirls on Sieg, snapping, “He woke up, and you didn’t even _tell_ us?” As Sieg tries to defend himself and the group begins to squabble, Liu leans back against the pillows and thinks. He’s run as far from the Scribes as he possibly can. Unless he turns around and backtracks, this is the end of the line for him.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Sieg says, in an attempt to extricate himself from the current argument, “these are my friends Marica and Jale.” He gestures first at the silver-haired girl, then at the blond boy. “If you don’t have anyplace to go—”

“—and you probably don’t, seeing as how you were wandering around the plains all by yourself,” Marica interjects before Jale elbows her.

“—then you can stay with us!” Sieg grins.

Liu-Shen—no, Liu looks at this boy, and sees in his eyes a genuine look of friendship he’s only ever seen in Len-Lien before. Even Jale and Marica, although they look more wary than Sieg, have an open, friendly look that is incredibly rare in the Scribes’ Village.

Liu decides that for the next while, Citro Village will be as good a place as any to call home.


End file.
